A Study in Rose
by Auttzthoughtz
Summary: Sherlock is in a benefits relationship with an old confidant but it's not what he really desires and they both know that. When the one he wants traipses through with long-awaited interest, the game really begins. Slash, smutty goodness, Johnlock endgame. Enjoy!


"He's going to be home soon," Sherlock purrs, not much caring as he's got his arms around her again.

Irene moans, leaning her head back against Sherlock's bare chest as he explores her body with his slender fingers. "Mr. Holmes, I will throw you over that desk and make you beg for mercy if you stop now."

"Twice?" Sherlock asks with a grin against Irene's throat.

"As many times as you'd like," Irene says in huffy breaths. "He doesn't even live here anymore."

"We still work together," Sherlock says, pushing his fingers down between Irene's legs, rubbing between her lower lips and relishing in how she bucks against him.

"Unless you are hoping he walks in," Irene replies in short breaths, trying to keep her cool façade as the detective gives her pleasure. "You're hoping that John will walk in, see this, and be so absolutely jealous he will forget he's married and take you right here and now."

"Irene," Sherlock purrs, biting against her neck as he goes, "may I?"

"May you – yes, Sherlock, you better go deeper," Irene chuckles for a moment before Sherlock's first finger enters her and she lets out a guttural moan. The questions of 'why now' and 'I thought this was done between us' left out the window the second Sherlock had invited her past the door and insisted she strip. "That's it." More fingers join along before Sherlock gets bored and pulls his three fingers away.

"Something else," Sherlock says, not entirely sure what he's looking for as Irene turns to face him. "You are very stimulating."

"Not the usual word, but from you that's about as much compliment as I'd expect," Irene says with a wink before she starts kissing down his chest. "Unless you'd object, but I'm sure you'd appreciate some relief right now," Irene says as she reaches forward and strokes his member gently, eliciting a moan from the detective as he braces himself on the desk behind him. "You're sure?"

"God, yes," Sherlock's head snaps up when he hears the familiar voice. John's eyes go wide. "I mean, I um…shit, no, I literally just walked in. I mean…I didn't know you even…okay, Sherlock, this has been sufficiently awkward. Have a good day."

"Wait," Sherlock asks, grabbing Irene's arm and pulling her up to his level. "Did you set this up?"

"Me, never! He doesn't even know who I am yet," Irene says with a bright smile, "he thinks I'm dead, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I forgot about that. He's going to punch me again," Sherlock says, thinking about the last time he lied about someone being dead (himself) and the colorful interactions that followed.

Irene chuckles. "I don't think that's at the forefront of his mind at the moment. He might smack you – but it won't be in the way you'd expect. Should I fetch the riding crop?"

"Stop it," Sherlock groans at the thought before his eyes match John's again. "Can you hear her?"

"Bits and pieces, yeah," John mutters. "Something about a riding crop – I won't be mad if the answer's yes, is that Irene?"

"Always a pleasure, Dr. Watson," Irene says as she turns to face him, winking once at him before turning to face him, surprised when Sherlock's hand comes up to cover her private area and his other arm over her breasts. "It's nothing he hasn't seen before, Sherlock, though the chivalry is pleasant."

John smiles at the thought of Sherlock being chivalrous. "How did you two…reacquaint yourselves? After, I'm assuming here, Sherlock saved you from execution?"

"Yes, he did," Irene says, leaning comfortably against the detective. "He called me after I left him a rose in the hospital. I'd heard he'd been shot and I wasn't sure he'd want me there, but I left him something in case so he knew I didn't oversee the possibility. He called and, well, old habits die hard."

"Oh," John says, looking between them. "Okay, well, I should…yeah, I should go."

"No," Sherlock replies hastily.

John turns around to look at him. "What?"

Irene smiles as Sherlock loosens his grip around her and she walks towards John, behind him. "I can do a lot for Sherlock, but honestly, I could never give him what he really wants. Who he really wants, really, until you just said 'God, yes' to him approaching getting head."

"There's no great excuse for that, is there?" John whispers back, watching Sherlock as his slender fingers skate down his torso and he starts stroking his member.

"Go on ahead, we'll never tell," Irene promises, giving John a little push towards Sherlock.

Sherlock just watches him, his fingers lazily pulling over his member. "I don't think just telling you to strip would be fair, that only works with Irene because we have a system."

John smiles, there's still the bit of awkward nature towards human interaction in there somewhere. It's just buried underneath the gorgeous nude man masturbating in front of him. "No, I can…um, do that."

"Glad you are capable of undressing yourself," Sherlock jokes in an effort to lighten the mood.

"Oi, shut up," John says as he pulls his jumper over his head. He fumbles when trying to undo his buttons and within seconds feels slender fingers push his away and matches eyes to Sherlock.

Sherlock pauses for a moment. "You don't have to."

"I'm well aware of that," John says in a shakier voice than normal.

Sherlock reaches his spare hand up to John's hair, combing through the short locks. "May I?"

John is not even fully sure what Sherlock is asking when he nods. Sherlock leans forward and captures his lips with John's, melting together with him almost instantly. It's so comfortable that neither of them remembers that they aren't alone, that this isn't just a special moment between the two of them even though it is. Sherlock carefully unbuckles John's belt and pushes away his jeans and pants before he starts working on the buttons of his shirt, not able to stop kissing his blogger for seconds. He pushes the shirt off of John's shoulders and thanks everything that there is no more offending garments between them.

Irene clears her throat and rummages around to find her dress. "I'll be going, you boys have fun."

Sherlock parts from John and laughs softly as his friend just kisses down his jaw and suckles at his neck instead. "Doesn't seem fair to you, Irene, if you'd like to…"

"You know it's not my specialty, but in case you'd like," Irene pulls the riding crop out of her little black bag and gently places it on the couch. Sherlock rolls his eyes at her and she shrugs before slipping on her clothes and heading towards the door.

Sherlock skates his hand down John's torso and wraps his hand around John's member, relishing in the sounds that are mumbled over his neck. "Would you like to take over where Irene left off?"

John pulls off of Sherlock's neck and looks at him for a moment, almost scared with the amount of nerves that question gives him. Sherlock gently presses his forehead down against John's and whispers for John to tell him if it's too much as he runs his free hand down John's arm until he's guiding John's hand to the detective's member and helping him start to stroke at a steady pace.

John's struggling but he just…wants. He kisses Sherlock again, using his own free hand to tangle in Sherlock's curls as they kiss, deeper and hotter as it goes. "Tell me if I do something wrong," John whispers over Sherlock's lips as he starts kissing down, both of their hands falling away from members as John continues kissing down Sherlock's torso and licks a strip over Sherlock's waistline. The detective needs both hands to grasp at the desk behind him for support as John next licks around Sherlock's perfectly erect cock. John then takes the cock as far down his throat as he can and hums, making Sherlock cry out.

Sherlock's mind goes blank and he has to scramble his hands backwards to the table behind him, gripping tight as he no longer trusts the table to support himself because it feels so good and it's all John. As the army doctor does his extraordinary best at giving Sherlock head, licking around the shaft, bobbing, humming, and doing all he can to make the experience the best possible for his detective – his hands scramble for purchase on Sherlock's hips, barely able to keep a steady grip. Sherlock's noises of appreciation egg him on to continue until Sherlock's hips start to shake under his deftly-gripping fingers and Sherlock lets himself go.

John pops off after swallowing what Sherlock has to offer and stands up slowly, sliding his hands up Sherlock's torso as he rises. Sherlock can't find words and just stands watching John, looking quite calm and sated. A very unusual look for him, one that John could find himself getting used to. Sherlock half-smiles softly. "I think the appropriate thing to say is thank you."

"My pleasure," John replies quickly before just laughing softly. "Brilliant."

"What?" Sherlock asks softly, bringing his hands forward from his loosened grip on the table to John's nape of his neck, wanting nothing more than to kiss him again and never stop.

"I can't exactly lie anymore then," John whispers with a small grin. "We're always going to end up having candles at the table."

Sherlock grins ear to ear before pausing to come back to logical thought. "Many things to figure out then?"

"Not worried right now," John mutters before leaning in and capturing Sherlock's lips with his again. When they part again, John looks towards the chair. "Did…did Irene leave us a riding crop?"

"Mostly as a joke I presume," Sherlock replies quietly laughing as he turns around, John's arms following him and keeping hold as he circles to look. "And she left a rose. Without thorns."

"Must mean she believes the most difficult part is over for us," John says as he slowly lets his arms slip away from Sherlock and moves over to the chair and picks up the riding crop. "I'm not really sure how to use one of these, to be honest. But if you want…"

Sherlock makes a noise low in his throat and grasps John's free hand, smiling brightly as he pulls John towards the bedroom. "Oh, the game is on."


End file.
